VOL- xxxv i
CLEARANCE SALE.
Oar new spring stock is arriving daily and we still have on bands many winter
goods which must be closed out and closed out quickly. So to make a long story
short the goods are vouis at less than one half their real value.
In addition to our sale of winter shoes we will place on sale 1000 P^\ r f - Nle " s
Boys'and Youths' Sample Shots made of fine Russett Calf and \ici Kid in t.ie
latest styles which will be sold at a great reduction.
*%%%%%%%% ******K**
READ; |READ*| |READ
Men's fine Raessett Calf shoes
Men's fine Russett Vici Kid shoes '« i 45
Boys' fine Russett Calf shoes ("
Ladies' fine Dong. Handwelt shoes (" --'5
Ladies' fine Dongola Flexible sole shoes l.<x>
Men's solid working shoes 9°
Boys' solid working shoes 5o
Ladies' waterproof Kanga'oo Calf shoes 9°
Children's fine Dongola shoes, size's 6 to ro}£ (■■__ 5°
Infants'soft sole shoes <S 20
And many other bargains.
Just Recived a Big Shipment of SOROSIS Shoes.
The New Shoes for Women.
These are all new spring goods, ou the latest style lasts, in.fine Tai-., I)jngola
and Patent Leather, in Leather or Vesting tops.
Very Swell are Sorosis.
Daintily hed Are They Who Wear Them.
REPAIRING ® PROMPTLY ® DONE
JOHN BICKEL.
128 SOUTH MAIN STRKKT BUTLER, PA.
HOSELTON'S SHOES
We're ready with some special lines—the comfort-giving; sort
that will aflord you the needed protection. V. e'l! sell them, too,
.with a slice of the original prices cut off; a big saving is what you
priay expect. Every shoe from our regular stock tnd fully guarantee d.
The Best Shoes in Butler.
SCHOOL ) Vor lhc HEAVY | J '" r ,
SHOES) GirU. SHOESj "Veoph-
FINE | F °r, FELTS » VoT Me "
SHOES) them; or OVERS) ' B,ys.
Lw?„l"r' Shoe Values
That arc bound to be the pride of th* whole county. A cordial in
vitation is expended to all to visit our store. You '.vilJ be made wel
come whether you buy or not. Glad to show what we have.
Some little shoe venders th'nk all they have to do is to get all
the worthless trash tin-}' can, no matter what, so tlt«;y can fix a i<>w
price, then blow their little tin horn and the people will hurry to
them by the hundreds They will find that a little later it will take
a trumpet equal to Gabriel's to make the people hearken unto their
lamentations. The people don't want to buy two pairs it once—
one to pjo home with, another pair to come back with.
B. C. HUSELTON'S,
Slutlur's U- n'ltriK White House Opposite Hotel Ijowry.
;;
I > Won't Uuy clothing for the purpone of spending money. They i >
< k desire to «tt the best |<ossible results for the money ex|«ende<l. .I .
Not cheap f;ood* but goodn as cheap an can Ix- sold and made m> |
< > Cail ami examine my lar>{<- Mock of 4. ►
< > SPRING SUITINGS. < >
I > Rijjht til) to date, the latest styles, shade. anil colors tliat could < |
4 > fwujflit. Call and examine them. ,I t
( > Fits and Workmanship Guaranteed. < 1 >
G. F. KEEN,
* 1 142 North Main Street, >: Butler, Pa. ( \ *
v
j HE IS A WISE HAN
r -WHO HFX;UBKM HIS ULOTHINU FltO.M #
J #
j J. S. YOUNG, J
|» THK Ml'JtrilAX r TAIMHt, 4
(f Tim k<xhU, Mtylo, fit ami general iiutku #
(I up «>r Ills Hiiitn
I TELL their own STORY
t.
Knowledge
; Concentrated
; iii boiled down, pressed to- ]
A gether is what you get in j
/]\ the New Werner Rdition ]
| of the ENCYCLOPEDIA]
j BRITANNICA. The facts j
contained therein are reli- !
able,the statements author- !
' (lr* —itative. The index which j
! lV accompanies each set of ;
i ' J books enables you to find !
*- —> the information you want j
quickly, and you can rely ;
J upon it, for even the courts do not question its state- ;
; ments. You can secure the entire set, complete in
j thirty superb octavo volumes, of the
Encyclopedia Britannica
for One Dollar Cash
and the balance in small mo>nthly payments.
FOR SAW BY
J. H. DOUGLASS,
BUT CEK FA
Subscribe for the CITIZEN.
THE BUTLER CITIZEN.
Tonight
If your liver is out of order, causin" f
Biliousness, Sick Headache, Heart- .
burn, or Constipation, take a dose of
Hood's Pills
On retiring, and tomorrow your di
gestive organs will be regulate 1 and
you will be bright, active and ready
for anv kind of work. This has
been the experience of others; it
will be yours. HOOD'S PILLS are
sold by all medicine dealers. 25 eta.
Pianos.
W R NEWTON,
Representing
The Chickering-Chase Bros. Co.
Manufacturers ot
Grand and Upright Pianos
AND
Farrand & Votey Organ Co..
Manufactures of Organs.
Can save you money in Uie purchase
of a FIRST'CLASS Instrument.
Call and examine them at the ware
room,
317 South Main St., Butler, Pa.
TERMS: Cash or easy payments to
suit purchaser.
YOUR SUIT
lay seem dear at the stare,
an 1 prove remarkably cheap
befo.e you ve worn it out. j
it's the long time satisfaction
you get from it that decides
the superiority of our mike.
It does pay to buy good
clothes. Our fall display is ,
of the kind yon would expect |
to find only in the larg
cities.
ALAND,
MAKER OK
MPN'S U C/I HKS !
I f i
WFt 1 '
+++ + +
tte Understood
After they hit him. It don't re
quire any brie ks to make
you understand that it is
money in your pocket
in dea'ing with us.
This comes from
the fact that we
sell only reliable
gooJs at a low price,
buying direct from the
manufactures, saving the
middle profit to you.
Many bargains to offer now.
Ed. Colbert,
Fomerly
Colbert & Dale.
242 S. Main St., Butler, I'a.
Braun's Pharmacy,
Cor. 6th St. and Duquesne Way.
Pittsburg, I'a,, 1., I). Telephone 2542.
Wholesale and Retail.
Importer and Jobberol I>ruj;s,
Chemicals, Perfumes, Soaps,
P.i ushes, Etc .
The only house west of New
Vork carrying a full line 01
Meyers' Grease, Paints and
theatrical goods.
Physicians' Prescriptions
Compounded Day or Night by
"Registered Pharmacists" only.
Wholesale and retail
dealer in Lubricating and
lllumriiating Oils, Capital
Cylinder, Dynamo, Water
White and Standard (las
Kngine Oils, Gasoiein, Ben
zine, Paraffinc Wax and
Petrolatum.
Address all mail orders to
W. F. Brau n.
.
ALWAYS USE . <J
M,':'-i
COCOA
PURE! HEALTHFUL!!
TWO SUNBEAMS.
Straight through a casc-rr.sr.«, open wlfle,
A sunbeam four.d its way.
And down upon the cottage floor
A shaft of brightness lay.
Sent from the gay. jzlad outer world,
A messenger apart.
It glorified the humble room.
And cheered the matron's heart.
It oaaxed the little one from play.
And mocked, with true delight.
The vain attempts of baby hands
To grasp the lance of hght
"Catch if you can," it seemed to say.
"I'd willing captive be."
And danced before the wondering eyes
To the tune of baby glee
Bright shone the little golden head
As it flltt. J here and there.
As though The sun itself had lent
Of Its shining store a share.
And mother caught her darling up.
In the mldfit of his fruitless chase,
And shower- d kisses, warm and soft.
On the pretty baby face.
"Tou cannot catch the sunshine.
Though you followed the wide world
through;
Vou're mother's little sunbeam, dear,
Ar.l she has caught you. too!
"Two sunbeams have 1 In my home;
3>ark would It be, and drear.
Without the bright ray on the floor.
And the bright face shining he-re!
"God owns the sunlight, but He gave
This precious beam to mother
Content am I to call <n< mine
And entertain the other"
Straight through the casement, open wide.
The sunbeam crept away,
And twilight shadows, stealing through.
Foretold the end of day
The outer world In dark • * lay,
I3ut mother's lean v.:■ .i light.
For a golden head nr. i a baby face
Kept home forev r bright
—Ella Randall, In Golden Days.
•»1 •; •'' •'i* •! • *y !1 y l ' • -i.z •-! t'J Vi' • '■z >c *z *'sr i%
I THE CALIPh'S CUP 1
I or WATER
3
v/ By David Kerr '5
np UK iun was Ketting red and snllen-
I over a battlefield in western
,\ ; ijport which two great arinic-K had
if hi contending since daybreak.
HartU 15 years had elapsed since the
death of Mohammed, and already the
strong arms and sharp f,\\ords of his
soldi, r disciples had spread lhc faith of
Islam through every land from Syria to
Morocco, and now the turn of l'ersia
had come 111 last.
The native warriors fought as stout
ly as men could do; but they were
matched with men who had never met
their equal in war.
Caliph Omar, wiping his heated
face with the sleeve of his robe, watched
keenly the giving away, little by little,
of the pointed Persian helmets before
the white Arab turbans, and hurled up
on the wavering enemy, just at the de
cisive moment, the thousand picked
men whom he had hitherto held In re
serve.
"Fight bravely, my sons!" was his
last charge to them; "for God Himself
fights for you. But should ye meet with
a I'ersiau chief, wearing a lion-skin
cloak and gold-inlaid helmet, whose
I name is llarmosan, the satrap (gov
ernor) of Yezd, kill him not, but bring
IT ON THE GROUND,
rbim to me alive) for men srty he is the
bravest warrhor in Persia, and I would
fain see him with my own eyes."
TMs sudden charge of fresh and vlg
orou* troops upon men exhausted with
a long day of hard fighting was quite
Irresistible,
Tin; Persians gave way on all sides;
the sacred standard of the shah was
trampled in the <iust and the few who
still strove to hold their ground were
overwhelmed by numbers.
The whole field was in a whirl of flight
und pursuit, and only in one spot, w here
a solitary elumpof palm trees broke tho
gray, unending level of the boundless
plain, a clamor of shouts and clashing
weapon* showed that resistance had
not yet wholly ceased.
Beneath those trees, with his buck
agailiht the largest trunk, stood a tall,
noble looking tram, in the prime of life,
■ with large bloclc eyes, which flashed a*
fiercely as the sword that played like
lightning amid the wild faces and Loss
ilng arms of his swarming enemies.
More than one broken arrow head was
• ticking in his breast plate; the silver
ouckler on his left ami was hacked and
dented, 11-. if by the blows <if a sledge
hammer; his armor was dyed red with
more than one wound.
Ilut he still held his ground unflinch
ingly, striking right and left with the
•trength of a giant, and never once In
vain.
ligt inch a fight was too unequal to
,lant.. The bravo man's sho began to
wax weary, his strength to fall. Closer
and closer to him gleamed the merciless
•pear hciul*, and In another mordent
lill would have been over, when Sudden
ly a powerful voice broke through the
din of the fray;
"Hold your hunds, brothers! per
chance this may be tin man whom (he
commander of the faithful bade us
spa re 1"
Tire Arabs made way for the new
comer (who was no other than the cap
tola of the caliph's guard), and lie
looked keenly at the hard preshed man
for tho signs by which the famous
•alrap was lo be distinguished. Hut he
looked in vain. The stranger's cloak
was gone, and hi* helmet so buMercd
and stained that the keenest eye could
liot have told the color of lis metal.
"Persianl" cried the captain, at
length, "art. Thou llarmosan, the satrap
of Ye/.d? If so, our swords hove no
edge against thee, If thou wilt but yield
to the caliph's mercy."
Hut the Persian answered only with
a blow, which, had It hit its mark, would
have ended the captain's wars once for
all. A gigantic Yemenee rushed for
ward only to full dead beneatlk'niiolher
of those irresistible strokes; but now
the Persian's sword -nappe d close to
the hilt, and he wos left defen-' le •
"We have him now!" shouted the cup
tain. "Hcl/c him and bind him fasti"
Despite the stranger's tremendous
BUTLEW, THURSDAY, MARCH O, 18i)n
struggles, he was overpowered by num
bers, and securely bound. But to all
the taunts of his captors he deigned not
a word of reply, and maintained the
same stern silence, even when he was
dragged into the presence of the caliph
himself.
As he listened to the recital of his
prisoner's exploits. Omar eyed him with
a look of grim approval; and the cap
tive, in his turn, surveyed with equal
admiration this prince of the desert,
who, master as he was, of nine powerful
kingdoms, was sitting cross-legged up
on the bare ground, in a rough cloak of
camel's hair, and supping on a handful
of dates and parched corn.
"Knowest thou," said Omar, at
with a stern look, "what fate
awaits him who hath shed the blood of
the faithful ?"
"I have fought for my country," an
swered the prisoner. "I am in thy pow
er. and I ask no mercy. Let the fate that
awaits me be what it may, it is all one
to me."
Omar's eyes sparkled; for, brave as a
lion himself, he loved nothing belter
than a brave man, whether friend or
foe.
"Methinks there is but one man in
Persian hosi who could speak to uie so,"
cried he. "Art thou llarmosan, the
satrap of Yezd?"
"I am," replied the Persian, drawing
himself up proudly. "I would not tell
my us me in the battle, lest it should
seem that I did so because thou haidst
bidden thy men spare me; but it mat
ters little who knows it now. lam llar
mosan, the soldier of Persia, and thine
enemy!"
Kven the fierce Arabs around him
smiled approvingly at the fearless
words, and more than one voice was
heard to mutter:
"This is a bold fellow, and worthy to
be one of the faithful! Pity that he
must die!"
"Persian," said Omar, "I may not give
thee thy life; but to show how the
prophet's followers honor courage, any
other request thou canst make is
granted before it is uttered!"
"Give mc a cup of water, then," an
swered llarmosan; "for since this day's
fight began, my thirst hast not been
quenched."
Omar nodded, and a black slave
brought forward a large silver cup,
•filled to the brim with clear, sparkling
water; but, instead of drinking, the
prisoner held it doubtfully in his hand.
"What now, friend?" cried the caliph,
impatiently. "If thou fearest treach
ery, be easy; for I pledge thee my word
that none shall harm thee till thou hast
drank that water."
Quick as lightning, llarmosan dashed
the cup to the ground and said, with u
mocking smile:
"Bid thy men, then, gather up that
water from the sand; for, by thine own
pledge ,1 am safe till I drink It!"
There was a moment of amazed si
lence, and then the outwitted Arabs
rushed at him with a savage yell; but
high above the uproar was heard the
commanding voice of Omar:
"A caliph's word is sacred, my chil
dren. Bring the brave Persian another
cup of water, and as I once bade him
drink and die, so n(>w I bid him drink
and live."— Golden Days.
Worked ln<ll Ln«»
Ad anecdote of the late Pierre Puvls
de fthavannes, given on the authority
of M. Octave Mirbeau, deserves to take
a permanent place in the annals of
painting. "Feeling himself very ill,
euys M. Mirbeau, "he sent for his med
ical adviser. 'My dear frieud,' said he, t
'I want to know exactly how long I
have to live. For weeks past, in order
that I might tuke better care of my
self, I have neglected my work. I
want to complete my fre«co before I.
die. I ask you for the truth —the real'
truth!' 'Eli bien!' gravely replied the
dootor, 'you perhaps have eight more
days to live,' The same day he went
Jnto his studio and commenced to work
jfurtously. For a whole week he painted
ten hours a day, only abandoning his
canvas when with Increasing weakness
the brush fell from his hand."—Studio.
I.lttln Conrtenlen.
There is often something luminous
about a child's definition, livery Amer
ican will agree with the little lud in.
a board school in England who in an
examination on Scripture subjects gave
«u original answer to the question:
"What can you tell me about Moses?"
"Please, sir, he was a gentleman," re
plied the little fellow.
"A gentleman!" repeated tluo in
spector. "What do you mean by that?".
"I'leasc, sir, when the daughters of
Jethro went to the well to drnw w<»
ter, the shepherds came and drove
away, arid Moses helped the daughters
of Jethro and said to the shepherds:
'Ladies first, [dense, gentlemen.'"—
Youth's Companion.
Otl«* \\ 11 > In liri Alicnil.
"Young man," said the long lrnlred
passenger to the stranger In the oppo
site seat, who was ou very intimate
terms with a |xj<'l<et flask, "don't you
know Unit if you persist in drinking
you will never be able lo get ahead in
the world?"
' "I won't, eh?" replied the thirsty In
dividual. "Well, old man, that's* where
your trolley jumps the wire. You
may be long 011 hair, but jou're short
011 knowledge. Won't get <t head, wt/n t
1? Bet you a dollar to a stale dough
nut I'll gel a head by to-morrow morn
ing bigger than a barrel."•'—Chicago
Dally News.
Hot to (Jo To.
Mr*. Crimsonbertk 1 wonder where
In the world the alarm clock has gone!
I saw it on the mantel yesterday.
Mr. Criinsoubeak It was there yes
terday, but i heard it «oiiig ott this
morning.
"Well, 1 hope It hasn't gone where
you told II to go." Yonkers States
man.
lie VVnan't I'rrim red.
"Would you adviiec ine to take an
ocean trip, doetm ?" * I'd •!" Invalid.
"Xo," was the reply; "I think a
series of mud bath* would benefit you
more."
"But, doctor," 1 aid tin sick man, In
tones that savored of hnpclew iie*s and
despair, "f can't afford to go Into poll
ties."- Chicago Record.
Would 111 l VP lo Unit.
The billionaire's Utile son wept bit
terly.
"Why Is this?" nslied the fond fn
-1 her.
"lie »nnl» the moon, sir," the IIUIM*
explained.
"He will have to wait until I can get
him the earth."- - Cincinnati Knqiiircr.
lleililr for Se 11 le IIIe «I.
"That Harkins will easi- which ha*
impii in the court h for several years
will soon be settled now," said Lawyer
Habeas.
"Yes," assented Lawyer Corpus, "I
understand the property Is about all
gone." • >hlo State Journal.
Hurt! lo Milt"' « ' In,lee.
"Young man," mi l the milliliter to
the heedless sinner, "have you ever
thought on your future life?"
"Yes, a glial deal, and, do you liiumv,
I cannot make up my mind between
I'orto Itico and the Philippine*."- Kun
$ TIM BRANIGAN'S 1
COURTSHIP;!
By B. W. Chaniiing
BItA>"XIGAX carried ice for the Syl
van Spring lee company. He was
a goodly young fellow, standing
six feet one in his stockings, with
a eountfnar.ee deeply bronzed by
weather, out of which his wide
blue eyes laughed unceasingly. His
flannel shirt, open a little at the
base of the strong, round throat, and
his broad felt hat, indentetl with a ver
tical "Denver poke," gave him a cow
bow effect. He wasperfectly cognizant
of this, and traded on it with the maids
at the various houses on his beat, before
whom he swaggered not b little, drop
ping hints of a western past, ttrewn
with Indian scalps.
"And was you ever there, now, Mr.
Brannigan?" one of them once asked
him, and he answered, ambiguously:
"Aw, an' if I hadn't a-been, how
would I get the wownd on me crown?"
"What wownd on your crown? Go
on I"
"I'll show it ye if ye'll step over
here."
Brannigan bent his burnished curls,
and pretty Xorali stretched on tiptoe
to meet them. But just as the two
heads reached one level, the hero lifted
his own quickly a»d kissed the frcsh-
I colored face that looked so intently at
him.
"Shure, the situation was that eon
i vayuient, I cuddeu't help it!" he urged,
| fleeing to the door with a smart cuff
ringing In his ears.
But he was to learn that there was a
' type of womanhood demanding more
: deferential approach.
The first time he saw Alma was on a
j hot afternoon in August, when she had
just come down from Nova Scotia, and
was feeling the atmosphere of the South
end oppressive.
Her mother, who kept a boarding
house, and had combined with that re
sponsibility the care of a shiftless sec
ond husband and his two small boys,
bad written lo Halifax that Alma was
needed. Alma was a slender, dark-
"I AM NOT THAT KIND," PAIU ALMA.
haired girl, with a delicute complexion,
and slim, ladylike hands.
Brannigan, swinging in with his huge
;ice block, took a swift, appreciative
look at her, dumped the ice In its re
ceptacle, and stopped on the retui u
swing for conversation.
" "Tla a warm day!"
"Dreadful!" said Alma, listlessly.
"I didn't see you before?"
"No. I've just come."
"Ye'll not stay here! the old
can't kape no gyurl more than a week;
'tis a hole of a place!"
"I'm Mrs. Brown's daughter, from
Halifax."
Brannigan went away at that, sud
denly speechless.
He saw her nearly every day after,
but he did not seem to make much head
way. A packet of chewing gum, which
had appeared to him a graceful atten
tion suitable from any gentleman to
any lady, was received with disappoint-,
ing coldness.
"It's very kind of you," she naid, "but
I never use It. Mrs. Kalby, where I lived
In Halifax, thought it was common."
One day about a month after her ar
rival, he found Alma alone In tliv
kitchen - and marked with concern that
her eyes were red with crying. Now,
Brannigan had a man's philosophy re
garding tears.
"Aren't ye well at all?" he asked,
coming up beside her.
"I'm all right I" said Alma, holding
her head down, and plunging her thin
little arms into a tub of soapsuds.
The next moment she was startled
and scandalized by the clasp of an urm
about her waist, and the touch of a
brow n mustache on her cheek.
"Ah, cheer up!" whispered llrauni-,
gan, tenderly, "it don't sthorm lvery
day!"
lie stepped back to avoid the expected
slap; but the ».• Irl made no sort of dem-i
on si rat lon. She simply stood I here with
a white face and looked unutterable re
proach.
Tactics of so novel a kind were dis
composing liraniilgan's bronzed cheelc
flamed, and the laugh died out of bin
eyes.
"Say. I'm mighty sorry I" he mur
mured; "I niver thought but ye'd llk»
It! The gyurls mostly does, 1111' 'tis 1101
harm at all."
"I'm not that kind," said Almu,
sternly.
"I'm mighty sorry," he repeated, and,
its Alma showed no signs of relenting,
went dejectedly lo the door.
" "I'wai sweet, what I got of it," ho
mused, "an' 'tis bad luck I'll get no
more. She's not the kind, il s true for
her."
The next few times that he carried ico
to the house he did not see Alma, ami
when, he did, on the fourth day, her
manner was excessively dignified, ilut
Brannigan was hard to snub. Instinct
ively, he reconstructed his too florid
vocabulary, and altered some of his
ways.
"She's worth tali la' trouble for," ho
said to himself.
His gentle persistence had its reward,
and after awhile they lind become so
fur friend* that Brannigan hazarded a
new depart lire.
"Do you IvorgooutHunday avenlns?"
he inquired one line Saturday.
"Sunday afternoons I do," AlmOr
amended.
" 'Tit great, out !u the park."
"I've heard it wys nice."
"I'd be proud If ye'd ride out therft
with ine tomorry?"
Alma's delicate color deepened. She
gazed 11 xeilly at lit'- handle of the door.'
"Let's say three o'clock."
"I'm not through my work till four."
It was the same thing iik nil assent
"l'll call for ye at four!" lie went off
beaming, but her voice made him turn
back In sudden panic.
"Don't call for me," she said, lit alow,
hesitating lone; "you I'd rather you
wouldn't Maybe I'll be at the corner
at four."
Th 6 ride out on the open car was very
pleasant. Alma enjoyed every bit of it,
though she asked herself frequently
what was she about.
Brannigan was not introspective; be
sides, he knew what he «as about per
fectly. He paid Alma's fares with an
authority she dared not gainsay, and
sat with his arm on the back ofThe
seat behind her.
His heart swelled; he almost wished
some man would do something for
which he could knock him down. He-
Lad the primitive instincts of the tribal
lover; he wanted to show his strength
to tlie woman he desired, and to have .
her know that strength would always 1
stand between her and danger.
This feeling increased as time went
on, and he saw more and more clearly
that Alma was unhappy at home. Her
eyes were often red. She complained of
headache, and on being pressed con
fessed that "the boys were tiresome."
One afternoon a strange man came
with the ice.
"Tim Brannigan's hurt," he ex
plained. It appeared that Brannigan
bad been at a fire, and rushing out of
the burning tenement with a forgotten !
baby, had broken his leg. Ilewasinthe |
city hospital.
The nest day Alma dressed herself
with care in the blue gown Brannigan
liked, and the Sunday hat with its soar
ing plumes and outspreading ribbons,
and started for the hospital.
When Brannigan saw Alma enter the
ward his face was irradiated with joy. j
And yet, when she reached the bedside, '
he was lying very still, with closed eyes ;
—or, with eyes that seemed to be closed, j
"Ah, an' is it you?" he asked, faintly, ,
| feigning a languid awakening. " "Pis
good of ye to come, but I'm that wak?
j I can scarcely take it in!"
"O, but you'll soon be better, Mr. !
i Brannigan!" she snid. struggling not ,
to cry.
"Ah. an" do \e think so?"' he asked, '
feebly. 1
Alma looked down at his splendid j
porportions in perfect seriousness.
"Do you feel pain anywhere?" she '
u-sked, fearfully.
"Ahful, just here!" said Brannigan, I
laying a muscular hand upon the car- \
diac region.
Not a muscle of her face changed, as
he saw through his half-shut eyes. A <
ripple of laughter passed over him, and !
he bit his lips under the long, tawny '
mustache. And while he laughed, he j
could have fallen at her feet—she was |
so adorablv innocent!
Alma saw and wholly misinterpreted
the tremor which shook him.
"Are you cold?" she inquired, anx
iously. She knew that it was a bad
sign to feel cold in serious Illness.
"I'roze out!" said Brannigan, in a
choked voice, another and more violent
tremor convulsing him.
"Don't they give you anything for a
chill?" she asked.
"They can't give me notliin'," he
whispered, " '(wouldn't do 110 good!"
Poor Alma began to cry. She did not
know people never died of a broken
leg; and with Brannigan's young
strength and health it was inexplicable.
But, certainly, he was near his end.
Reckless of observation, she bent her
face to his and kissed him.
And then a strange thing happened,
for (he helpless sufferer revived, rc
turned her farewell salute with inter
est, and held the girl close In a clasp of
astonishing vigor.
"0, my! Mr. Braimigan, aren't you
ashamed? And nie thinking you that
illl" gasped Alma.
"I niver told ye there was anything
wrong wid me ormsl" he- cried. "An'
I wns lu«t sutTerin' for 11 kins, dear!
ic h ia me nave one ..»i now ,
repaid himself for tho deprivation). Ah,
Alma, dnrlin', say ye'll go to the priest
wid me when I'm out o' here! I've a
tidy lilt in the bank, an' niver a soul
depending on me, an' I'd make ye so
happy ye'd not know yerself—"
He became aware of the severely-dis
approving regard of a liiiddlc-age<J
nurse on the other side of the bed, and
let. Alma go. Then ho winked with glad
effrontery at the Intruder.
""l is all right!" lie assured her;
"kissin' ain't agin tlie rules whin it'* a
man's own gyurl he's goln' to marry —
is It, now? An' ye're goin' to marry in«
the minute I'm out, aren't ye, Alma, 11111
dear?"
Aliua was torn with a variety of emo
tions; but she loved Braiuiigan.
"Yes," she said.—Boston Globe.
Tin- IJ i» oil -N' 111 u r«-<l lliiNliieim Mini.
Blessings ou the head of the good
natured business man. lie does more
good Ihsn a missionary. So many
business men are cross and unmison
able that a good-natured one ha» a
start that in very valuable. —Atchison
Globe.
One Way of Sottltn*.
"No more late hours, remember, Mr.
Orimshaw," concluded the eminent spe
cialist. "No more cigars; 110 more
small bottles."
"H'10!" replied Grimsihaw, In u non
committal way. "Good-day, doctor.
"Pardon me," sAld the physician,
muvely; "but t tie all fee for my ad-
Hco Is ten dollars."
"Very likely it is worth that amount,
but as I have concluded not lo take it (
of course I owe you nothing. And
he departed, leaving the eminent *[>e
clulist entirely without language ap
propriate for the emergency. lllu
strated American.
fUmiilluli 111 for the Anliual
"According to the witnesses," said
tjio police jus' e, "the man called jou
vile names and }'V U I'a id no attention
jo him, but wben he spoke to the m,nu
key you picked upu brick and knocked
him down."
"Yowa," replied the 01 g.in gi iinler.
"Ho tali de monk II looka like me."—
Chicago Tribune.
OpiM>lM-<l lo ICIpMIIMIOO.
"Are you an expansionist, Mr.
BcwldsY" asked young Mr. Ifunker,
who felt bound to talk to the old gen
tleman. while he waited for MlswSeudds
to descend to the parlor.
"No, I 11111 1111 antl-expanslonlst," re
plied Mr. Scadds. "My family Is quite
as large now as I c«ro to have It."—De
troit tree Presw.
Why lln Wunlnl tile llucnla.
Old Mr. <'a*hly (to his private secre
tary) So vou want an advance in your
salary, eli? Why, I'm sure I've always
tried to lie liberal with you.
Mr. (bill I Hnow It, sir; but your
daughter and 1 have agreed Vgct mar
ried, and I want to fcupjKjrt lierdeocnt
ly.— Harlem Li feu
I .>■•11; A ciMini |il I* ticfl.
"Did you ever irnve any trouble la
getting out of town?" asked the friend
to whom Mr. Stormlngtou Barnes was
relating his theatric experiences.
"None whatever," was the answer.
"The town* we played were I*l small
that all we liuiil to do ««» to walk two
or three blocks." Washington Star.
I : M oll«lleal.
"The trouble with him," said the
) oung man who had l>ccu 11 ing to fit
, 1 ugly describe au acquaintance, "Is
that when he dipped into the sea of
knowledge he thought he brought up
m* much that thi* blamed thing went
<lev " ( h iiyiuo I'ost.
TOMMY SPINK'S EARS.
Tommy Spink was a boy
Who brought bushels of Joy
To the hcnr:s the sleepy old school.
Hut 'twas not bis fine looks
Nor his liking for L^oks,
For he stocH at the foot, as a rule.
But Tommy was blest
Above all of the rest
Whom I kntw In those Jubilant years.
For In some funr.y way.
But just how I can't say.
He was able to wiggle his ears.
The lazy old clock
Would be dreaming, "tlck-tock."
\nd the room quite as still as a mouse.
When some one of the crowd
Would dare snicker out loud
And arouse all tiie rest in the houso.
Then the teacher's command
Would be "Hold out your hand!"
And some one would shed a few tear*.
And all Just because.
Spurning Nature's set laws.
Tommy Spink chose to wiggle his ears.
His scalp, so he said.
Was too big for his head
And he rolled it about as he willed.
While his ears, to and fro.
So grotesquely would go,
You would laugh though you knew you'd
be killed.
And to this very day.
When my skies are a gray.
There Is one recollection that cheers.
As I think, with a smile.
With what innocent guile
Tommy Spink used to wiggle his ears.
Oh, the years have been long
Since I left the glad throng
I lowd In those happier days;
They have passed fromiiny view
All those friends whom I knew
And are threading life's dtevlous ways.
All Is fading, I find,
Yet with pleasure my mind
To that one youthful picture adheres.
And from out the dini past
I'll recall to the last
llow Tommy Spink wiggled his ears.
—Nlxou Waterman, In L. A. W. Bulletin.
| For Nothing Per Cent. 1
THE house in which Mr. William
Johnson carried on the business of
money lender nnd financial agent was
in 110 way different from those sur
rounding it save that the downstairs
front window bore the legend "Loan
Office" in large black letters on a white
ground. A quiet, orderly, middle-aged
man was Mr. Johnson, and people who
met him in the street and did not know
him would have taken him for anything
rather than a man who put out his
money to usury.
Certainly there was nothing- of the
! Shy lock about him as he sot one spring
• morning in his dingy office over a much*
I thumbed account book. He was a tall,
J spare, loosely-built man, with u pale
i face and a thin, straggling crop of
! beard and whiskers that always looked
: as if it had grown in patches. Usually,
; when he was not talking to his clients,
'{he curried a quill pen in his mouth;
I (there wus something in this habit tJiat
' J gave him the appearance of an ab
j [stracted poodle carrying a stick.
I • Mr. Johnson was deeply engrossed in
} the consideration of a certain entry in
'lis account book when the door of the
loan office opened very suddenly and
net the bell ringing with sharp dis
sonance. lie heard u light step in. the
little lobby, which was partitioned off
from the rest of the room. For a mo
ment he did not answer the lummons of
the bell —it was never wise to be In too
much haste to welcome callers. But
presently lie rose and opened the door,
the quill pen still retaining its hori
zontal position in his mouth. He lifted
his eyes carelessly from the little swing
counter to t lie person who stood behind
it. He was not easily surprised, for he
had Been many strange things In his
time, but what he now saw surprised
trim into a vague, uncomfortable si
lence.
Behind the little counter stood a
young lady—nay a girl—of sonic 18 or
"WHAT AMOUNT DO YOU WISH TO
BOItROWT"
1U years, fusliiouubly dressed, evidently
of good position and palpable refine
ment. Her pretty, fresh face, revealing
itself to M r. Johnson's astonished eyes
from beneath the ravishments ol a
much be flowered picture hat, seemed
strangely out of keeping with tlio
dingy color of the little lobby.
"Oh vr 3c are Mr. William Joliu
soti?" she said.
"Ye*," answered Mr. Johnson.
"You er, you lend tnouey, don't
you ?"
"Yes," said Mr. Johnson again.
"I I Maut to borrow some money,"
she silid, looking out of half averted
eyes at the money lender.
\lr. Joh u son's first Impulse was to
stretch out his hand for one of the ap
plication form* which stood ready In u
small box on the counter. Hut upon
reflection lie lifted the swinging shelf
ami asked his new client to step Inside.
When she Ihhl |«i .sed Into the offloe ho
closed t he door and joined her and from
sheer force of habit he restored the
<1 til I i pen to hi* mouth. The girl saw
the resemblance to the abstracted
poodle, and a smile rippled over her
face. Mr. Johnson did not observe it|
lie indicated a chair at the side of lila
ili ik and when the girl had taken It lie
resumed his own scut, and looked at
her.
"What, amount did you wish to bor
row, ma'am?" said Mr. Johnson.
"Oil- ah —well, £ 'M."
"Now •" said Mr. Johnson. "I sup
pose you could furnish gyod security ?"
"1 thought that you—lt says In your
advertisement, you know, that you
lend money on borrower"* lioteot ha ml
nlum 1 think that's how it's put. Isn't
It? and no Inquiries, and no securities
—isn't that it?"
"To approved borrower®—yea," an
swered Mr. Johnson.
"OhI" said the glrL "Ohl Then:
you—"
"Wu don't lend money without se
curity," said Mr. Johnson. "Of course,
if we know the party, and know thai
it's all right aud safe, why, of course,
In that case "
"J iee," aald the girl." "Yea—of
course, you don't know any thing about
me. How silly of me! I thought one
had JiiM to come and get the money
and sign a paper or something."
The girl looked up from her parasol,
with which she had been tracing Im
aginary pat terns on the floor.
"I'ti imp- I'd better tell you nil about
i, It," she htiid. Of eourse, you V on't tell
an/jflflly, pjUl jro'iV"
No. lO
"Never divulge professional BecrCt#,'*'
said Mr. Johnson.
"Well. I want to borrow £2O tobuTM
bicycle. There!" said the girl, with m
decisive tap of the p.irasol upon tha
floor. "You see, I've spent
of my quarter's allowance, and therelj
still a month before I've any more duflj
—and I simply must have that bicyc!a» :
and I looked overall the advertisement*
about money, and I saw yours and so 1
came to you."
"Might I inquire what name, ma'am?"
said Mr. Johnson.
"Oh. I'm Miss Lattimer—of course,
you know my father—Mr. Robert Latr
timer?"
"Certainly," replied Mr. Johnson,
more astonished than ever. "I've no
doubt that he'd buy you a bicycle now."
"No, he won't. He thinks £BOO a
year quite enough for a girl to spend.
No, I shall have to buy my own bicycle."
Mr. Johnson took the quill out of hia
mouth nnd scratched his head with the
feathered end of it.
"I'm nfraid your father wouldn't ap
prove, ma'am —he began.
"Oh. he's not to know, you know.
This is a little deal just between you
and me. After all, it's not getting
tilings on ciedit, is it? Because the
money will really be mine when you've
lent it to me, won't it?"
"Ye-es," answered Mr. Johnson.
"Ye-es."
"That's all right, then!" said Misa
Lattimer, triumphantly. "Well, have I
got to Kign any papers or anything, Mr.
Johnson?"
"It is usual to make inquiries before
completing."
"Oh, but I've no time for inquiries!"
exclaimed Miss Lattimer. "I've got to
meet a friend at the cycle agent's in aa
hour. Oh—look here, I'll leave you my
card, Mr. Johnson, in case you wanting
! address."
Mr. Johnson looked at the piece of
pasteboard and then at Miss Lattimer.
Something impelled him to rise and un
lock a safe, which stood In a corner o{
the office, lie fumbled about and Anal
ly produced four five-pound notes, new
from the Bank of England.
"Well, ma'am," said Mr. Johnson, "it
isn't my usual way of doing business,
but —" and there he paused, utterly un
able to explain matters tohimself.
( "When did you say you could pay It
back, ma'am?"
"Oh, on the flrsbof July," replied Miss
Lattimer. "That's scarcely a month, is
It?"
"Then I may expect to see yQU on the
first of July, ma'am," said Mr. Johnson,
laying do\\n the notes.
"Certainly you may 1" exclaimed Miss
Lattimer, delightedly. "Thanks, awful
ly 1" She stutTed the notes into a gola
mounted purse and smiled at Mr. John
son with all the innocent pleasure of 4
child who has got what it wants. "But
we haven't arranged anything—haven't
>I to sign a paper or anything?"
"I think," said Mr. Johnson, slowly,
"that we'll leave that over until you pay,
the money, ma'am. I'll only charge yo(i
reasonable interest, for such a short loan.
'Of course, ina'ain,you'll not mention thirf
little transaction to anybody," lie add
ed, anxiously. "We always keep ties#
matters quiet—very quiet."
"Oh, to be Bure!" laughed ths g<rL
"Well, thanks, Mr. Johnson, and goos
- see me on the first of July
dead certain, you know."
On the first of July Mr. Johnson sat
in his office in a state of nervous expeo
taney; but the nervousness had noth
ing to do with the money which was due
from Miss Lattimer. All the morning
he waited and all the afternoon and still
she came not.. And then as evening
drew nenr the postman brought & reg
istered letter and Mr. Johnson opened
It' and drew out £BO in notet and ©im
pound in gold and a note that smelied
of violets.
After a long time Mr, Johnson rose
from his desk and locked tin tLo note*
in ills safe. Then betook the sovereign
Jn his hand and went out into the
street. He presently came to the littlei
shop of a working jeweler and entered
it timidly. When ho came out the sov
ereign hung on his simple watch chain
nnd his finger s twit for it und caressed
It as If it had been a live thing. And
11)0.1 was the end. —Chicago Dally News.
Ontnlttrd lIU Slmrji-Tongmi Wife.
An Englishman of Lymlngtou had
the misfortune to live in a continuous
quarrel with Lis wife, who was a modern
X.antlppe, and threatened, in case she
survived him, to dance over his grave.
It was her lot to outlive him, out 14
was not so easy to carry out her threat.
The husband had the precaution to
make an Injunction In Ills will requir
ing lil« body to be burled in the sea
near his residence and without cere
mony. The injunction was complied
with.—Chicago Chronicle.
RonntLrd It Ksfeljr.
Mrs. Owllllam* —1 heard you tell Mr.
Sfllnt to come around at lunch time
downtown to-morrow and you would
have a hot-wotch. What l<t a ho -
stxttch, dear?
Mr. (Jwilllam#—Cooked oatmeal, my
dear.—Chicago Tribune.
Whr He Was
Young Poet—Why do you rcfiue ny>
for a son-in-law? I* it because I liok
merit?
Pnterfamlllus (old jvurnalistlo hindV,
—Oh, no; it is simply on jwcOUWl &
lack of spaoe. We ar* really crowafiO
for room liere now.—Tlt^Dit*.
Too True.
"Dearest," she murmured, "I'm eo
afraid you'll change."
"Darling," lie answered, "you'll never
fln<l any change atxyut me."
Which wa* nalufulb' true lit a double
sense -Cleveland Plain l>e<ifer.
FVmlulilc.
"Flo slsdl Why, what a beautiful
And a bonnet from l'arls, too, my ilMr.
You're wellt I sco your Wrinkle* ars lss#
By i lany than when you wers hsr* last
year "
- Judao.
A IVncefiil Section.
Missouri Traveler This is a famous
section for feuds, I understand?
Native No more peaceful parts any-!
where tlmn right here. No feuds here.
Everything's as pleasant a» pie.
"But how about the llilllngton-Wel-
Liitgiou feud?"
"Over long ago. I'm Dllllngton."
"Indeed I I haven't met any of the
Wellingtons."
"No, nor you won't. The feud Is
over."— N. Y. Weekly.
Til* Itradlon.
She (who )ins just sa|d no) —I am
sorry 1 cannot give you the answer you
wanted, Mr. Hpooner, but It is /or the
best, believe me. Home day you will
ask youlself what you e\cr saw In me
to attract your fancy.
lie—l have iio doubt 1 wll], Miss
IVJmrpe. My frlcndp htve asked me
that question a hundred times since 1
begatl j'Sji'ig attentions io you.—Chi
cago 'I rlbune.
An ICn||nAis
In hl« willing yrn>« tneiislreis ho trlumph
nnlly ahrokled.
Hut her i»a abruptly entered and lis
loosed his eiliiKlnK clasp.
'Ton tlio ending vf ill# romance, but he
hain't >'et I fssnil tolling
Of ths ijßinuiahla tlirie no had a fortuno